Silent Knight
by Mibani-Chu
Summary: Mute!Dave Schoolstuck AU There are many things a Strider is good at, but socializing has never been one of them. Highschool might just be the death of him. [Shipping in later Chapters! M For possible content!]
1. Speak No Evil

There's nothing wrong with me, I just never wanted to speak.

I never saw a reason to, so I never did.

I'm not broken, you don't need to fix me... I just hate my own voice.

Is that so criminal?

* * *

I'm 14 years old, and currently being put into ISD for the third time today, simply because I don't talk. You'd think once was enough for everyone to understand? Yeah, no, of course not.

"Dave, can you just **tell me** what's going on?"

I don't even twitch in response. I don't see why I'd have to. It's their own damned fault I'm stuck like this- maybe if they'd actually pay attention to the needs of their students instead of their own pay-check, then we'd be done here and I'd be on my way.

"Do I need to call your parents, Dave?"

I flinch at that one, the smallest mention of family never sat well with me, as I never really had anyone but my brother, and even he's not around all the time. He'd probably bail me out of this, though; so I recompose myself an leave a nod.

The young counselor scoots her chair over to her large computer setup, and spends no more than a few seconds clicking and scrolling through all of the non-existent details about me and my home/guardians. I suppose she found something, because she grabs the black office phone and dials a number with fervor.

"Yes, hello Mr. Strider... This is Mrs-... Y-Yes...? Oh! Y-Yes sir, of course. Mhmm, yes, of course. I should have expected that much... Yes... Of course... Thank you, goodbye." She slams down the phone with a shaken sigh and looks me in the eye from behind my aviators.

"Your brother has informed me of... Your various difficulties... I apologize for all of this trouble... I'll email your teachers right away. Thank you for your time..." The now frazzled woman jots something down on a pink slip and hands it to me. "Now get back to class."

I smirk, grabbing the paper and striding out of the office calmly. On my way out I pass by the secretary of general affairs, who shoots me a light wave. I casually remark with a nod of the head.

I make my way down the white and grey halls of the highschool. Who'd have known that a freshman would have this much trouble for doing nothing incorrect? It must be hell for the _normal_

kids. The empty upstairs halls lightly echo my cheap carpet cushioned steps, making me realize just how quiet this whole place is in between classes.

I slip back into my 3rd period class, biology, passing the pink slip to my obnoxious teacher as he begins to ask if anyone else knows anything about the scientific method. I take a seat in the back by a couple of goth looking girls. One seems to be a bit taller and has hair that's much more flippy than the other, who has on a black headband and more of a bobbed cut.

"Hey cutie~." The taller of the two slides a bit closer to me, only to be pulled back by the other of the two roughly.

"No." The headband girl says calmly. Obviously unimpressed by me- tch, does she even know who I am? I run a blog.

"But _Roooooooooooooosie~_..." Flippy hair groans, sliding her body down the chair in a childlike fashion. Bobbed hair rolls her eyes and focuses on me for a minute.

"I'm sorry about her. She's a bit of... a child sometimes... Can you believe she's the eldest?" She says with a small smile. Though there's no way she could see through my glasses, it feels like her eyes are locked onto mine... And hers are a calm violet, strange.

Who am I to talk about strange eyes?

"Ahem, Ms...?"

"Lalonde. Rose Lalonde." Goth-headband girl replies to the teacher in a monotone voice- It's really pleasant...

"Yes, Rose, will you and your friend need to step outside for a moment?" The middle-aged man asks with a heavy undertone of loathing and general sourness... He must have been doing this for way too long.

"No, Mr. Kelvin. We'll be just fine, thank you." Again, an incredibly smooth and quick response. She must be pretty well practiced in this kind of sass. Passive aggressive and smart, something not even my level of satire could battle it.

Oh, what am I saying, of course it could.

Deciding that enough is enough, he goes back to going on and on about some beginning of school bullshit that by now everyone is sick of. It's only 11 and I'm more than sure that everyone wants to go home.

I double check my schedule, quickly reading over my lunch and when what classes start. Having first lunch, I'm incredibly happy that this underpaid idiot is finally going to be cut-off. Food doesn't sound too good right now, but the reason to have some time myself is always welcomed.

"Now, we're going to play a small game that should help you get to know the people that you're going to spend the rest of the year by... Oh, and by the way, these are you assigned seats now. So make the first impression worth-while."

Oh fuck you. That's just cruel.

"Everyone get in a small circle, leave your items at your desk, as you wont be needing them right now."

The collective of freshmen awkwardly surround the teacher, who dips back into the poorly constructed circle as soon as he deems it well-shaped enough. People shift to stand by old friends from middle-school, some talk and giggle, and others look like they want nothing to do with this place.

"Now, I'm going to go around, and when it's your turn, you're going to tell us your name, favorite movie, and the middle-school you come from, alright?"

The class gives no clear indication of understanding, but no one is bold enough to ask him to repeat. I'm a little jittery about this, he knows what's going on, but... Hey, you know what, I'll take the freebie.

People are shaky and nervous, their voices are underwhelming and scared. I wonder if I could talk better than them? My voice isn't that amazing, but maybe it's more confident than that? Person by person the line goes, and most of them give the same answers. 'Name, recent teenage drama/action, Derse/Prospit Junior High.'

"My name is Rose Lalonde, my favorite movie is incredibly difficult to place, so I believe that I'm going to pass on that, and I'm from Derse. I'm actually a year younger than any of you, so I'd suggest you be very kind." [Rose?] speaks just as calmly as before, almost sarcastic if you ask me. She's somewhat impressive... I wonder if she's interested in music? She has the perfect voice for it.

"And m'name's Roxyy~! I'm a huge fan of the Harry Potter series and I'm also from Derse! I'm Rosie's siiiiister~!" [Roxy?] slurs in a sort of over-confident teenage manner. She kind of scares me, her bold expression is almost impossible to get over... On top of the fact that she's wearing an off-the-shoulder graphic tee, a hot pink skirt, and leggings with legwarmers. The 80s weren't that awesome, but I suppose it's got some kind of value in the eyes of someone with a more refined taste.

The teacher paces to my side in a brisk fashion, obviously annoyed that he has to do this and not some kind of special needs tutor. Pushing his hair back with a distinct scowl, he begins the small announcement.

"This is Dave Strider, he's mute. I recommend that you don't push him into speaking, as there might be some serious consequences, etc, etc.. Look, let's move on."

It doesn't take too long for it to finish getting around the room, making it back to the first victim. Mr. Kelvin as I find out his name is, then lets us know that we needed to remember the names of the people around us, as we were going to play a game in which we remembered someone's name and threw a ball to them.

Are we in the first grade?

The ball makes it around to a few people with minimal interruptions, thank god. Until it makes it to Roxy, of course, who passes it to Rose; Rose, however, calls my name. I can only assume it was out of some weird need to include me that some people seem to insist on.

I wordlessly point to someone who hasn't been picked yet, tossing them the ball lightly. I guess that was kind of nice, but it's not something I should get used to.

"Do you remember her name, Dave?" The calmed voice of the younger Lalonde whispers to me from behind Roxy. I reply with a gentle nod, which causes her to smile.

"Was it Alex?" She asks, I shake my head. It was Ruby, I remember that much. "Mm... Jessica?" I shake my head again. "Ruby?" I nod, and Rose claps her hands together. Well hey, I mean, I may not talk, but I'm not stupid.

The bell harshly hits the room, causing the circle to degrade into a sea of 14 year-olds rushing for their over-stuffed backpacks to either make it to the school cafeteria for overpriced sludge, or to try and make it off campus to the Dominoes down the street.

I make my way out of the classroom, shuffling along with the frantic crowd of Freshmen and Sophomores alike down the dangerous looking concrete stairs. Barely managing to keep up with the unrelenting groups of teenagers that clog and shove around the side halls of the overstuffed commons. The 9ft. windows give off the false illusion of space and an overwhelming amount of late August sun, warming me intensely as I bob and weave through the flowing ocean of students.

Out of the frying pan and into the fire.

* * *

I take a seat on the far end of the cafeteria, at a worn down table off by the theater and set of stairs only used by staff. I unzip the second largest pouch of my black backpack, fishing out my brown bag lunch. I dart my eyes around, just to confirm no one is looking; deciding that no one would really care, I open the paper bag with a huff, throwing the smuppet that ended up stuffed on the top into the nearby trashcan. Pulling out a turkey sandwich and a somehow still cold bottle of apple juice carefully, still looking for someone who might be watching.

Unwrapping the sandwich from it's cellophane prison, pulling it to my mouth...

"Diiiiiiiiiirk~!"

I snap my mouth closed, and put my lunch down abruptly. I tried incredibly hard not to notice that, but I could pick that name out of a crowd. There's no way that it's a coincidence.

"Rox, you really shouldn't yell."

"B-But Diiiiiiiick..."

"Oh my god."

Kamina shades, check.  
Anime hair, check.  
Weaboo phone charms, check.

Yep, that's my older brother.

The older Lalonde is on his tail, I'm assuming that he knows her from online or something. He just walks over and takes a seat next to me, he knows that I really don't care.

"I got the call from the counselor. You should have seen my English teacher, he was pissed." Dirk states with a chuckle, "When I came back into the room, he gave the entire class a lecture about responsibility..." He pauses, almost like he's thinking, "Dave, this is Roxy. I met her online a few years ago. She's the drunkard, remember?"

I nod with understanding, quickly signing to him that I've already met her, but I didn't know it was _her. _Roxy just watches carefully, incredibly interested by my expression, or lack there-of.

"Oh, you two have biology? Is this the 'cute quiet guy' that you were talking about, Rox?" Dirk says with a small smile. He was always so much more expressive than I was... I'm kind of jealous. He has the slightest southern drawl too, that's probably from us growing up in Texas though. I wonder if I have one.

"Yeah. Di'n't know you knew him though." The blonde slurs, finally taking the hint and sitting down across the table with her tray. She starts to gently eat away at her cardboard pizza, seemingly cautious of her black lipstick.

"This is my brother, and, did you ever get around to learning sign language?" He asks casually, as if they'd discussed this before. That kind of frightens me. She puts down her pizza and signs '_little' _ with a cheesy smile.

"Remember my friends that I told you about? The one with a deaf cousin?"

"Oh! The Leijon girl."

"Yeah! I learned it to talk to her too... Did you know that she's really into anime too?" Lalonde adds at a slightly lower volume. I know how Dirk gets about this kind of stuff, and I'm assuming that she does too.

"No, I didn't. Does she go to school here?" He responds in a rather calm way. He's now cautiously nibbling on his own sandwich, making it quite clear to me that Dirk really trusts her. We don't like to eat in front of other people, it makes us really jittery and nervous.

"I think she's a Senior, so you might see her... I miss Nep, man, too bad she's an 8th grader." Roxy says with a scowl, it's the first time I've seen her with any emotion but happy. It's kind of heartbreaking if I have to be honest. She seems like she's gone through a lot more bullshit than anyone else really needs to by her age.

"Speaking of younger girls, where's Rose? I wanted to meet her." Dirk changes topic quickly. Roxy perks up almost immediately, glad for the distraction I assume.

"She's got second lunch everyday but Thursday." The black-lipped blonde replies with a smile and a chipper tune. It almost scares me how easily she seems to be cheered up... She's pretty experienced with masks.

The conversation goes on for a while longer, but I generally block it out. I sip on my apple juice and take a couple looks at my schedule and map, placing names with classes and creating a path for me to waste the least time getting from class to class.

The lunch bell rings incredibly quickly, half an hour gone in almost a blink of an eye. I give Roxy a light wave and gather my stuff up. Next on my list is art... which is... two rooms away from my biology class...

That's just mean.

* * *

I merge into the crowd, surprised to see it thin out towards the band hall... Maybe people are weirded out by the music kids? Then I guess I'm going to have trouble. I take the stairs as quickly as effectively possible, trying not to trip on the poorly designed concrete steps. I roll down the hallway as quickly as I can without making it look like I'm trying to rush, giving off the aura of natural coolness, the likes of which cannot be duplicated.

Slipping out of the freeway of angst and iPhones, I find myself a spot in the art room. I pick a seat towards the middle of the room, the most uninterrupted out of the whole room. Checking the clock, it's three minutes away from the start of class, so I just pull out my drawing pad and start to doodle while I wait. The tapping of a cane against my leg pulls me out of the trance I'd somehow caught myself in.

"Hey coolkid, is this seat taken?" The voice is somehow high and grating at the same time. It's fascinating. I look up at the carrier, and see a rather impressive looking pair of red glasses framing some dead looking green eyes.

I shake my head, and the kid sits down next to me. They're smiling quite wide, and seem to be looking right at me. I look them over one more time, noting the cane with a dragon head, red shoes, black skinny jeans, and black tee-shirt with "_S33 NO 3V1L" _on it in bold teal font with red trim.

"Curious about the tee? I'm the guitarist for a local band. This is the name of it." The harsh voice speaks once more... It's high enough to be female, but brash enough to be male; and with the flat chest, I don't want to make the wrong assumption.

"You don't talk much, do you coolkid?" They ask, I nod. "That's cool. I'm Terezi." Xe says with a chuckle, "I'm blind!"

I exhale from my nose a bit louder than normal, as a way of expressing disbelief. She's recognized my nods, plain as day... There's no way that she's blind... Of course, she does have the cane, but the glasses are just a touch flashy...

"Not believing me? I can smell and taste colours, you know... And I do particularly love the colour red..." Xe growls in an almost seductive tone... It's quite interesting to listen to them talk...

"Hmm... You're mute aren't you?!" The raven-haired bind cracks, loud enough for some people in the halls to hear her. I give a sheepish nod, and move on with my doodles, trying to not focus too much on them.

"I can kinda see what you're thinking there, you're unsure if I'm male or female... Well, I'm male. If you're curious." _He_ says with a toothy grin, shark-like teeth flashing me. "You're quite the card, coolkid, it's a shame class is about to start."

Almost on queue, the bell rings, and in comes an overjoyed woman with flowing blonde hair, trailing along with a sundress- closing the door behind her.

At least I like to draw.

* * *

_**A/N: This will be updated as school goes on, as I only really get to work on it at school. Thank you all for your patience, and I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoy writing it. R/R?**_


	2. Cause You've Got a Long Way To Go

I left the art room with a few doodles on my arms in sharpie. Our teacher thought it'd be nice if we picked someone in the room and drew something school appropriate on their arm as a sign of friendship. I have a clock from a girl with red lipstick, an eye in a anime style from a hyper girl with long hair, and, of course, a dick from Terezi.

Heading down another pair of somewhat better kept stairs, I make my way down the math/language hallway. This one is particularly stuffed- being one of the very few with lockers. Quickly following along with the waterfall of students of all varieties. It takes almost a minute to get about 30 feet to my math class. I slip in with a few other students, one of which looks more hardened than the others.

I glance up at the projector, looking it over. It's obviously a seating chart. My name is placed right up front, I assume it's to keep an eye on my work. I sit down at my desk, placing my backpack to the side. The guy with hardened features pauses and examines me, a slow process washes over his face as he judges me slowly. Eventually, he gives up and takes the seat next to me. With another quick glance at the image in front of me informs me that his last name is Vantas.

"So, you look smug. I assume you've met Rez?" He growls, I turn, his face is actually quite soft, but his eyes show signs of strain. His mouth is curved into a distinct scowl, one that seems embedded into his face. Said face is framed with black hair, tipped with a bright red that curves and clings to him delicately. Kind of beautiful actually.

"Hello? Earth to faggot?" Vantas snaps in front of my glasses, as if I can't see him... Wait, are his nails black and grey...? Whatever. I nod, causing him to jump back a bit in what can only be explained as exaggerated surprise.

"Whoa! He fucking lives! So, Strider, you meet Rez yet, or are you just his new boy to stalk?" His growl-y voice exclaims. He's obviously really loud, the entire class of Freshmen are completely bewildered by him. "He mentioned you don't like to chat. So, hey, I'm Karkat. I'll do enough 'chatting' for the both of us."

Unsure of what he wants me to do to acknowledge his introduction, I just nod. He accepts it, and turns to the front of the room, almost perfectly timed with the bell. Our overweight math teacher comes into the room, guns not so blazing, with a stack of paperwork.

Throughout the course of the 55 minute period, I was given a syllabus, shown a penny that was cut in half, and learned a bit about Karkat. He was also in Terezi's band, and him and Terezi were both Sophomores. How a Sophomore ended up in the undergrad algebra class is honestly way beyond me.

Leaving that classroom as quickly as I entered it was sort of a must, as soon as the '_you can leave now_' bell sounded, I was out of there. stepping toward the band hall as fast as my legs could carry me without it looking like I was trying to get the hell out of there. With a few smooth steps to avoid groups of people who couldn't understand the fact that not everyone likes to loiter, I was there, face to face with the...

The...

...Choir Room.

I don't _talk,_ so why the **fuck **would I want to _sing_? I'll have to head to the consoling office to get this changed right fucking no- My thought was cut off by the teacher that slammed into me, he was jittery and somewhat bubbly, apologizing profusely when he reclaimed his balance.

"Oh! I'm so so sorry... D-Dave right? I heard about what's going on with your issues and I completely understand if you'd like to drop out of choir..." He paused, taking a breath, "I'm sorry, this has gotten off on the wrong foot. I'm Mr. Quick. I'm the choir teacher... New this year."

A brief period of silence fell over the two of us. His eyes were a kind chocolate that pierced me in an indescribable way, that paired with his smooth voice and gentle features gave off this unusual aura of kindness and understanding. All of my worry washed away, and it was replaced with an strange amount of kinship and respect... Almost like he understood me, and he wanted to pull me out of my shell...

_Like that'd happen._

The bell was loud enough to make us both jump and rush to the classroom, him muttering something about an excuse for this one in particular. The atmosphere in the room was quite hard to place, being filled primarily with females, the smell of flowery perfumes drowned out the hard worked scent of cinnamon and warmth that came from the air-freshener in the teacher's office.

Drowning out the collective gasps and whispers about the new teacher as I put my oversized backpack against the wall with the rest, as instructed on the sign just above said area. Obviously these girls liked how he looked, I mean, I wasn't exactly too surprised about that- he was pretty attractive in his own right.

The rest of the period was actually quite nice. We stretched for a while, most of the girls giggling whenever he did something human. Being a class of 103 girls and only 6 boys, the whole period beyond that was taken up by us getting our music from the cabinets by number we were assigned. After that 40 minute process was over, we were taught a small song- one that was catchy and didn't have much actual meaning to it. Just to test our ability singing in a group.

I didn't even open my mouth, I just listened.

_"I was passing by, _

_my brother called to me, _

_and he said to me,_

_you better take time in life._

_You better take time in life,_

_you better take time in life,_

_you better take time in life,_

_'cause you got a long way to go."_

The most shocking part was probably the fact that he knew almost all of our names right away, which is a stretch to believe. He must have sat down and studied his roster with some kind of fervor that only a first year teacher would have. Mr. Quick must really be trying.

I might like this class after all.

7th period I had, fuck, I wasn't even really paying attention to what it was. Did it really matter what the class was though? To be honest, it didn't. It's the last class of the day and most people were just wanting it to be over. The teacher was really charismatic and talkative, however. It made for a change of pace that was really welcomed.

He had a word that was designated for a stretch break, and a word that was designated for focusing. Both of which made for a weird amount of control that no other teacher I've ever met has been able to pull off.

Respect for our needs and a mutual understanding of the classroom rules and rights.

The bell wasn't too welcome this time, because we were having a heated discussion on feminism and racial discrimination that was the most open minded I've ever heard students on a sensitive topic since my brother came out. Of course, everyone already knew it and that sort of softened the blow, but, you get the point.

I gather my things and stand, waiting for the room to empty before I leave, deciding that I'm not in any rush. Before I could make my move out of the door, the teacher stops me with a hand on my shoulder- I flinch, disliking contact whatsoever. He seems to get it and pulls his hand away, allowing me to spin around. Somewhat confused, I look him in the eyes, making sure to take in his face for clues. Soft yet firm features remind me of someone, but I just can't place the family line- I digress. He's not showing much more than I soft smile, bringing his glasses up ever-so-subtly.

He lifts his right hand with a small bit of purpose- slowly signing _'hello'_ to me. I'm a little surprised for the second time in the past hour. He continues with just as much care, '_I am not sure if I am good at this anymore'._

_'You're doing just fine. Where'd you learn this?' _I reply with a bit more speed than I'm sure he's used to, causing him to pause and register. He seems a touch confused, so I repeat the last part, which gets the point through.

_'I had a friend who was mute when I was your age' _His fingers catching speed as his sentence goes on. The fact that it's not the first time he's seen it is really eye opening, and fills me with some kind of unlocked glee. I'm not the only one who's done this kind of thing? I'm not _too _crazy? I recompose myself quickly, barely catching the hint of a smile that drug itself to my face.

_'Interesting. Is that why you stopped me?" _

He just goes blank for a minute. Maybe he doesn't know why he stopped me? I suppose I can understand that. Sometimes you just do things, and you have no idea why you do. It's happened to me before.

_'You can go now. I am sorry for stopping you.' _Mr... Something[?] finishes with an almost strange haste. His hazel eyes giving off a strong dip of emotions that I can't place all at once. I think I might have brought up some memories long forgotten.

Deciding I've caused enough trouble, I take my leave, heading down another set of **motherfucking stairs**, and swinging around to make my way out the front doors. Walking around the various groups of friends from cliques that I'm not too concerned with. Sitting on one of the planters to the right is my brother and the Lalondes. They're accompanied by a couple of other dorky looking kids, one of which looks to be in his twenties, while the other seems to be a Freshman. They're almost like twins, and even seem to act like it.

"Hey, coolkid!" The ever-so-familiar voice of Terezi calls from my left. I turn my head, catching the sight of him and Karkat hanging around with a couple others- one of which looks sort scared, but not the kind of scared that would make him easy to pick on, the kind of scared that someone gets when they have anxiety and are in crowds. His tan skin and orange tipped Mohawk lead me to believe that he's also a bit into this band, and if he's not, he's easily a friend.

I stride over, greeting them with a nod of the head. Terezi laughs and meets me halfway, slinging an arm over my shoulder. His cackle subsiding as soon as he's got me in arm, not abandoning the smile, however, as we walk to the 4 with an obvious haste.

"This is Dave. Dave, this is Tav, Vriska, and Kanaya. They're friends." The raven haired maniac points out each person as she goes. Tav is Mr. Mohawk, Vriska has a skrillex-grunge cut swept to her right and dyed a royal blue to mach her lipstick and shimmering grey-blue eyes framed by hipster-esc glasses, and Kanaya looks sort of normal comparatively- her mocha hair is done up in a flippy style to match her off-white swirl patterned sundress which makes her flawless brown skin nearly shine in contrast. Quite the cast.

"Hello, Dave." Kanaya speaks first, holding out her well manicured hand for me to shake- as I do so, I can obviously put together who does Karkat's nails, as hers are put together with just as much sharpness and skill. She's beautiful, and I can't argue that fact with anything. She's just flawless.

"Hey, you're pretty cool. How old are you kid?" Vriska's sly voice interjects. She sounds like something out of a high school drama... I stay static, and Kanaya turns to confront the shorter girl, standing as a barrier in case things go wrong.

"He's a Freshman." Terezi interjects, knowing something that I don't about Vriska, obviously.

"Ohh~... Well, hey, I'm a Senior, Pupa and Worrypants are bother Juniors, and the band geeks are Sophomores." She continues, every other word is slid out smoothly, her peppy and somewhat slick voice is seemingly made to provoke. She's probably a good manipulator.

"So, coolkid, wanna come chill with us? Or is your bro a stick in the mud?" The subject is changed quickly by the raven haired boy, tapping his cane on the pavement in an impatient manner. I turn my head over to said brother, who's...

Oh wow.

He's making out with the taller boy, who's twin is incredibly embarrassed by. My face takes heat, and I rip my eyes away, deciding that he'd probably be just fine with me coming home late. Pulling my head back to Terezi, with a silent gaze that tells a story to him, I nod. He gets it, says that we're leaving, and soon enough, we're all walking down the sidewalk to a house that's just down the road.

**A/N: Wow, okay, I'm so glad you guys all like this so much! It means a lot to me, you know! I'm going to keep this going as long as you guys like it, ya know? Anyway, thank you! RnR!  
**


	3. Give Me a Sign

The walk is painfully silent, so silent, that I'm almost afraid of where we're going. I'm pretty used to these kinds of neighborhoods, however. It's ghetto, but not overly so- just a lot of tiny houses and run down apartments for people in or just out of high school or college. The community college is only a couple blocks, after all.

We only walk for about 10 minutes from the high school, stopping in front of this tiny bunker-like home. The dark coloured wood gives off the impression of age, and the low amount of windows makes me believe that it never was meant to be housing. The cement stairs leaving off the sidewalk down to the little thing also makes me believe it was some sort of storm shelter, low and somewhat quaint.

Terezi rips open the door and shows us all in. Closing it behind us once we're all inside. The small living room is framed by a large leather sofa and large television that's hooked up to an entertainment center of a size I've never seen before. There are shelves filled with games and various systems, made for both show and for function. It's sort of magical.

To the left is a minimalist kitchen that's part of a hallway, a nice setup that looks like it hasn't been cleaned in a couple days, but isn't that messed up. Just a pizza box and a couple plates in the sink, like they just got too busy. Terezi leads us down the kitchen/hallway, which turns off to the right, which is another hallway that ends in a staircase. From said staircase, we can hear very muffled bass guitar. There are two doors, one to the left, which looks like a bedroom, and one to the right, which is an open door to a bathroom.

We head down the stairs as a group- once we make it to the door at the end, Terezi's hesitant.

"Hey, Dave, why don't you open this?" He asks me with a grin that only says mischief, thinking, '_what's the worst that could happen?'_ I make my way through the small group and push open the door. I'm nearly blasted away by the sudden change in volume as I step in- obviously they've done a good job of soundproofing this room.

The bass stops when we enter, and the owner of the sound steps over, guitar still slung over her shoulder. Her raven hair is tipped bleach blonde into a teal, making for a strange and beautiful colour pattern that matches her teal and red hat. Taking one look at her simply screams skater to me.

"Heya Rez, who's the new kid?" Her voice slides, much smoother than anyone else [Minus Vriska] I've met so far. Her eyes glint from behind her square red glasses- huh, must be a family fashion?- to show curiosity.

"This is the coolkid. Dave. He doesn't talk- you know, because he's too cool for that." Terezi laughs, sharing a joke that I don't get. The woman in front of me must think that it's really funny too because she just bursts out laughing. It takes her a couple moments to recompose herself, but once she does, her black lipstick coated smile is enough to keep everyone else smiling.

She shows us through to the room, which is pretty big compared to the rest of the house. There's a couch up against the wall, and on the other wall, there's two sets of drums, four guitars, two bass guitars, and a mic. The walls are bare, but where there isn't dark wood, there's a couple posters for "_S33 NO 3V1L" _all of which have ticket stubs pinned next to them, there's even one of their weird tee-shirts pinned up.

I walk forward, taking in the environment, almost missing the fact that there are two other people sitting in the back of the room. One's dopey looking, and the other is wearing a helmet.

What have I gotten into?

"Oh, I guess I should probably tell you, the name's Tula. Over there is Gamz and Tuna- but I have to warn you-" She's abruptly interrupted by the sound of drums crashing and a call out in pain, and rushes to the source. The kid in the helmet is now on the ground, and the most busted up of the drum kits is half crooked and half generally wrong.

She helps him up with little resistance, and whispers to him for a minute. He nods in reply, and they're soon walking my way- when he nodded, the helmet came loose, and just fell to the floor. It seems like neither of them actually cared much for it, because they just let it go.

"Tuna, this is Dave- say hi, alright?" Tula coos, and Tuna hesitates, but holds out his hand- which shakes as it's extended.

I reach out slowly and grab his palm slowly, gently, waiting for the shaking to slow down before I actually make an attempt to move my arm. As soon as I release my grip, he rips his hand back with some kind of fear. I can't actually see his eyes, simply because his hair is so long, so I can't read him for sure.

"He's autistic. So you just have to be kind of careful with how you talk to him. He's mostly worked it out, but he still has trouble with new people." She tells me with a lot of care, choosing her words very carefully. I really can feel her love for him, even if it isn't obvious whether or not they're family, she has a real and legitimate care for him.

"Eyyy Tavbro." The voice of who I can only assume is '_Gamz_' hoarsely calls from the couch. He has a guitar in his hands that it looks like he's been fiddling with for a while now. Tav makes his way over in an almost rushed fashion, dropping down next to the taller male. He's of a milk-chocolate skin color, greatly contrasted by the clown-esque makeup on his face. Must be a juggalo.

"Well, coolkid, let's get down to business. Do you play an instrument?" Terezi asks me with a smile. I don't react, I don't know how to tell him. Without warning, his eyes light up, and he dashes over to Gamz, who's liplocked with Tav.

Huh.

"Gamzee! Translate for me." The blind boy barks, Gamzee seems to be used to this and taps Tav on the wrist and they come apart. He then turns to face the shorter male.

"Translate fuckin' what?" The clown's hoarse voice came back across, still harsh, though there's some melody to it. Terezi then points him to me, and he hums in response, almost like he kind of gets what's being told to him.

I sign casually, just to test the waters, '_So, you're my translator?' _He nods.

**How many fucking people know sign language? **

_'I know the turntables like the back of my hand, and I love to mix and compose._' I finish quickly, disliking how my barrier is broken. He turns to Terezi and relays the message, which gives him a huge grin.

"That means we can get our stuff online!" He shouts, his voice hitting a higher octave than it has the rest of the day. He catches it and clears his throat, moving on with a nervous smile.

The rest of the day is spent talking about things and trying not to watch Tavros and Gamzee make out.

My walk home is silent and nice, Terezi offered to walk me home, which I turned down. I'd had enough of other people for the day.

Stepping onto the grounds of the apartment complex that was just a few minutes from Terezi's and the school, I walk up the _cement fucking stairs_ to our second floor home. I fish out my keys and open up the door, pushing it open and plopping my backpack against the wall.

"Oh, hey Dave. Went somewhere?" My brother calls from kitchen- I walk down the entry hallway and take the sharp left through the archway. He's not doing anything in particular, just leaning against the counter, taking pictures to snapchat to someone from school.

I nod, knowing that I can't really tell him much. I just head back to my backpack, grab my uneaten sandwich and retreat to me room. I boot up my computer and open up my original music, popping in a blank CD and burning them all to it. While it does its thing, I slip on my headphones and pull out my phone- dropping onto my bed with a calm 'plop'.

I enter my combination and open up pesterchum, scrolling around my friends, looking for who's online. Dirk is, of course, but so is EB, TG, and GG. EB, however, has already dropped me a couple messages.

EB: hey was today weird for you too?

TG: its our first day of highschool of course its going to be fucking weird

TG: thats like asking me if water is wet

EB: i know its just...

EB: i had to watch my cousin make out with a guy on a bet

TG: well that doesnt sound too bad

TG: youre not the one trying to adapt to a new place

TG: that shit is hard man  
TG: i was sent in to talk to the fucking counselor

TG: at least 5 times

EB: oh man that sucks!

TG: tell me about it

TG: i then had to find away to get out of chior because the machines fucked up

TG: or choir whatever the fuck it is

EB: choir isnt that bad!

EB: at least its more fun than gym

EB: gym sucks

TG: yeah im sure it does

TG: getting changed in front of a bunch of dudes

TG: then running like an asshole for an hour

TG: after you sweat up a fucking storm you just

TG: go back to school like it never fucking happened

TG: a stinky asshole walking around

TG: pretending that youre normal

TG: when you know that everyone knows

TG: that youre the one that fucking stinks

EB: i will never know how you type that fast

EB: oh what youre on mobile

EB: how the hell do you text that fast?

TG: practice

I take a moment to check the burn, and as I assumed, it was done. I close the window, pull out the CD and grab a nearby sharpie to write "the mix" on it in sharp black letters. Capping the marker and throwing it off to the side, I pick up one of my spare CD sleeves and slip it inside, hoping to god I remember to grab it on my way out tomorrow.

My stomach reminds me of its existence with a loud grumble, and I unwrap my sandwich again, think time, actually managing to eat some of it. I switch off my phone and slip back onto my computer, opening Pesterchum on it instead.

EB: so where did you move?

EB: you never told me

TG: i thought that was the point

EB: youve known me how long?

TG: alright i guess you got me there

TG: the trust of a strider is hard to get

TG: but i suppose you have deserved it

EB: aw thats almost sweet

TG: almost

TG: yes almost

EB: well are you going to answer me?

TG: oregon

EB: where in oregon?

TG: like some suburban town

EB: like how suburban are we talking about here?

TG: like this place in the middle of buttfuck nowhere with a population of like

TG: 18k

EB: oh shit hermiston?

TG: i think so yeah

EB: i live there!

TG: hm thats kinda different

EB: what do you mean?

TG: i didnt think id meet you so soon

TG: i mean theres a high possibility that were in the same school

EB: skaia?

TG: the very one

EB: oh my god!

TG: you are way too excited about this

EB: are you saying you dont want to meet me

TG: wrong

EB: well?

I finish my sandwich before I know it. I don't know how to really respond to that to be completely honest. Meeting internet friends has always been weird for me, but Dirk does it all the time. He, however, loves going to conventions, and thought that this would be a great place to be so that he could be close to all of them.

TG: well look

TG: i guess i just

TG: dont know what i expect

TG: like itll be really weird

EB: how?

TG: ive never really talked about this

TG: but i dont talk

EB: like

EB: youre a mute?

TG: yeah i guess

EB: thats really awesome

TG: what

EB: i said that that is really fucking awesome

TG: how the hell is it awesome

EB: well i mean you can just

EB: not talk

EB: and no one will ever say oh no you cant do that

TG: dude it actually really sucks

EB whatever man

TG: look it doesnt matter

TG: do you want to like meet up before school or something

TG: i dont know anywhere in town so

EB: i live pretty far from the school

TG: like how far are we talking

EB: you know where wal-mart is?

TG; oh yeah thats like a solid 30 minute walk from here

EB: yeah im by there

TG: oh

TG; well i dont really care

TG: where do you want to meet and when

EB: do you know where the elementary school is over there?

TG: no

EB: do you know where the pawn shop is?

TG: no

EB: uh

EB: do you know where the smoke shop is?

TG: yeah

EB: oh

EB: i didnt expect that to be the yes

TG: my brother still smokes pot from time to time

EB: but its illegal here?

TG: and

EB: okay okay

TG: so

EB: how about you head down the street from the smoke shop and meet me at the top of the hill

EB: where the crossing guard sign is

TG: when

EB: uh...

EB: how about 6:30?

TG: sure

I lean back in my chair, heart kind of pounding. I'm scared, and I refuse to admit it. I stand from my rolling chair and pull open my worn door, sliding into the hallway with a sigh. I pass by Dirk, who's now chuckling at what I can only assume is his latest message. I wave at him, and he nods in response.

I take my leave, and head out for a tiny walk, just around the block to clear my head.

I really hope this all works out.


End file.
